Kiss It Better
by FanOfDeliciousFlavour
Summary: When Cas is in despair over how easily his human form bleeds, Dean introduces him to a curious human tradition. And later, the angel will use it to help the hunter with his own wounds. (Destiel Two-Shot, Rated T to be safe.)
1. The Angel's Cut

_**Kiss It Better - Part One - The Angel's Cut**_

 **A/N - Hey guys, welcome to the story! This is a two-part piece inspired by a tumblr prompt, where in part one Dean introduces Cas to the concept of kissing it better as the angel adjusts to being human. In part two, Cas uses his newfound knowledge to help Dean with his own wounds.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Find anything yet?"

Silence.

Dean glanced up from his computer, where he had been searching for cases for the past hour. He was just about ready to blow his brains out from boredom.

Cas was supposed to be on newspaper duty. And there he sat, a pile of articles on the table in front of him. But that's not where his attention was.

"Cas?" Dean prompted him. The angel looked up, meeting Dean's gaze with his own.

"Yes, Dean?"

Dean paused. Something was off. His angel's voice was weary, almost hurt.

"Everything alright?"

Cas hesitated a moment before lifting up a singular finger. Dean could just make out a thin line of blood trailing from a cut. Dean snorted.

"A paper cut? Really, Cas?" With that, he returned to his laptop.

There was a moment of quiet before Castiel spoke again, voice soft.

"This body is so fragile. It… it bleeds so easily."

Dean glanced up to find the angel staring despondently at his finger. Dean cursed himself for laughing before. He should have known that Cas would be frustrated at the reminder of his weakened state.

He stood from his chair, crossing the room in a few quick strides. Before he had stopped to consider his actions, he was standing in right in front of Cas.

"Dean, what-"

"Look, you're human now," He told him, instinctively extending a hand to the angel. "Someone's gotta teach you how to handle the little things."

Cas paused a moment, staring at Dean's outstretched hand long enough to make the hunter begin to feel like an idiot. Then, he slowly slipped his hand into Dean's, fingers carefully intertwining with his own in a way that had him inhaling sharply. Pure blue eyes met his, and Dean had to tear his gaze away, clearing his throat.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

Cas nodded, rising from his chair. To Dean's surprise, he didn't let go of his hand, instead gripping it tightly, as if fearing that Dean would let go.

Of course, Dean had no intention of letting go.

Leading the angel to the bathroom, Dean released him to rummage through the drawers for a band-aid. He found the box between containers of facial cream and a bottle of scented shampoo.

Dean smirked. He was _so_ making fun of Sam for this later.

When he turned around, he found Cas far closer than he remembered. He brushed it off; after all, the hallway bathroom was fairly small. And Cas had never really had a good concept of personal space.

At least, not when it came to Dean.

He pulled a band-aid from the pack, and Cas held out his finger expectantly. Dean waved him off.

"Hold up a second, you've gotta rinse it first," Dean cautioned. "Or else you could get an infection, or something."

He'd never felt more ridiculous, but the angel was listening carefully. He always did.

Cas shuffled around Dean to the sink, arm brushing briefly against his. That shouldn't have been enough to send shivers up his spine, and yet…

His attention snapped back to the present as Cas began removing his trench coat.

"Whoa, hold up a minute. What are you-"

"I didn't want it to get wet, Dean," Cas explained gently. "The sleeves are rather long."

"...Oh."

That was all Dean could manage. There had hardly been a time where Dean had seen Cas without his trench coat on. It was practically part of him as far as Dean was concerned. Seeing him without it was like seeing him naked, and there was something undeniably appealing about seeing Cas only in his white button-up, rolling his sleeves to his elbows.

 _Christ, what the hell was wrong with him?_

Turning the faucet handle, Cas slid his finger under the water, only to withdraw it with a sharp hiss.

"It hurts." He murmured. Dean was tempted to roll his eyes; after all, it should only have stung a little bit. But he reminded himself that Cas wasn't used to this.

"I know," He soothed the angel. "But we gotta clean it out."

Taking hold of Cas, he gently guided his finger under the steady stream of water. As the he tensed up, Dean carefully rubbed his thumb over the wound, brushing away the dirt. He placed his free hand around the angel's waist, keeping him close.

Having Cas so close was almost painful. Dean's heart was pounding, his chest tightening in a way it never had before. He wanted to stay like this forever, the angel's body pressed against his, warmth sinking into his bones.

All too soon, Cas was turning off the water, turning to face Dean.

Ignoring the feeling of loss, Dean peeled the band-aid from the paper, carefully wrapping it around the angel's finger.

"There, all done."

Cas offered a weak smile.

"Thank you, Dean. You have always been kind," Dean was tempted to argue. He had been an asshole to Cas on more than one occasion. "I apologize for being so… fragile."

"Hey, Cas. Look at me," The angel raised his head to meet Dean's gaze. "It's not a big deal. Shit happens, and this is new to you. No one is upset with you, or thinks that you're fragile."

Cas nodded slowly, but he still didn't seem convinced. An idea struck Dean, and he acted before he could change his mind.

"Alright, I'm gonna introduce you to a human tradition," He told Cas. That caught the angel's attention. Taking hold of his hand once more, Dean raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the bandaged area. Cas inhaled sharply.

"Dean… what are you-"

"Like I said, a human tradition," He explained quickly. Dean could already feel himself going red. "When you get hurt… a kiss is supposed to make it better."

A slow smile began to spread across the angel's features. If there's one thing Dean knew, it was that Cas loved learning little things about humans, the tiny nuances that he couldn't pick up when watching from afar.

This couldn't be more of a chick-flick moment, but Dean didn't care. How could he, when Cas was giving him _that_ look? The look that Sammy used to give him, the kind that showed both admiration and gratitude, making Dean feel like a hero.

There was something else in the angel's expression too, something he couldn't quite make out. But for now, this was enough.

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 **A/N - Hope you enjoyed part one of Kiss It Better! Part two, The Hunter's Wound, will come very soon! If you enjoyed this, please feel free to check out my other Destiel story called The Angel's Pickup; Dean introduces Cas to pickup lines... and then finds them used against himself.**

 **As always, please leave a review with your thoughts, and any story ideas you think I should write.**

 **~ Elizabeth (FanOfDeliciousFlavour)**


	2. The Hunter's Wound

**_Kiss It Better - Part Two - The Hunter's Wound_**

 **A/N - Hey, welcome back! As promised, here's part two of Kiss It Better! Cas will use the knowledge he gained last chapter to help Dean with a wound of his own.**

 **I hope you enjoy!**

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It's a few days later when Cas makes use of his newfound knowledge.

It came during one of Dean's moods. Every so often, the weight of everything that had happened would hit him; the people he had lost, the lives he had taken, all the times he had let others down.

On these days, he would lock himself away, hide in his room in the bunker. Sam had learned to leave him alone… but Cas was a different story, as it turned out.

Dean didn't raise his head from his pillow when he heard a knock on the door. He didn't bother to respond in any way, not when they knocked a second time, and a third.

"Not now, Sammy," He called gruffly as he heard the door begin to creak open.

"Dean."

That caught his attention. The voice didn't belong to Sam, but rather to Cas. Sitting up, he found the angel standing awkwardly in the doorway. His expression shifted to one of concern, however, as his gaze fell upon Dean's face.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." The angel's voice was unwavering, completely certain.

Dean paused.

"No, I'm not."

There was no point in trying to hide it. Cas would know - he always knew.

Before he knew what was happening, the angel had crossed the room in a few quick strides and was settling in next to Dean on his bed.

The hunter didn't bother to move away, like he might've done in the past. After the incident a few days ago, he'd been craving an opportunity like this, where he could be close to Cas again.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Cas prompted him gently.

Normally, if anyone else had asked him that question, Dean would've laughed and told them to piss off. He didn't need a therapist, or any chick-flick moments… at least that's what he told himself and anyone who asked.

But today, Dean found himself willing to be a bit more vulnerable than before.

He took a deep breath.

"Why am I alive, Cas?"

He could sense the angel's surprise without even looking at him.

"What do you mean?"

It was a moment before Dean could force the words out.

"So many… so many people have died. People I knew, people I cared about. They didn't deserve it. Not one." By the time he was done, his voice had practically become a whisper.

Cas placed a hand on his shoulder, lowering his head to meet the dejected hunter's gaze. Dean found himself unable to look away as green eyes met beautiful blue ones, filled with compassion.

"Of course not. And it's perfectly acceptable to grieve for-"

"But that's not it," Dean interrupted him. "At least, not all of it."

Cas only blinked, waiting patiently for Dean to continue. He hesitated.

"It's just… why me? Why am I alive? So many have died… hell, I've died! Like, a lot! What did I do that makes me worthy of life, when everyone else has died?"

"Dean, what you're feeling is survivor's guilt," Cas explained gently. "It's natural to feel that way for someone who has been through trauma after trauma, war after war."

Dean was beginning to get frustrated.

"But I don't deserve to live, Cas! I should be dead! I should-"

Before he knew what was happening, the angel was tackling him, with Dean landing flat on his back on the bed as Cas straddled him, pinning him down. He was too stunned by what had happened and the feeling of the angel's body pressed against his own to even try to fight. Not that he could, even if he wanted to; Cas had an iron grip on his wrists.

"Don't you dare," Cas growled in his ear. "Don't you dare say that again. Do you know how many people you have saved, Dean? You deserve life more than anyone."

"Cas-" Dean started, but the angel wasn't done.

"You think you're so alone? That you're the only one who feels that way?" He continued angrily. "Do you have any idea how many of my brothers and sisters have perished because of me? But I am the one who keeps being brought back, and yes, it feels awful. I have no powers, no usefulness. I'm not an angel anymore. And yet, you don't see me pushing _you_ away. So stop pushing _me._ "

For a moment, all Dean could do was lie there in shocked silence. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen Cas display so much emotion at once.

"You're still an angel to me." He whispered. And it was true. He'd never stopped thinking of Cas as an angel, and doubted he ever would.

Dean watched as his anger melted away, replaced once more with heartfelt compassion that left left him breathless.

Then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Dean's chest… right over his heart.

"Cas… what-"

"I'm making it better." He whispered, before repeating the action, lips pressed against the fabric of Dean's shirt.

In that moment, it suddenly made sense. Cas wanted to heal his heart, and was doing it in the way Dean had taught him.

He couldn't help but smile. _God, Cas was so cheesy_.

But Dean loved it.

Before he could change his mind, he grabbed Cas by his tie and yanked him down, pressing the angel's lips to his. Cas froze at the contact, becoming unresponsive. Dean quickly pulled back, scanning the angel's features for any indication of how he felt.

"Dean…" He choked out. "What was…"

Dean offered him a smirk, trying to conceal his worry.

"What can I say, my lips hurt too."

He watched as a slow smile crept across the angel's face, before Cas leaned down and eagerly pressed his lips to Dean's.

"Mine too."

They stayed that way for a while, cradled in each other's arms. Both of them knew that they'd have to get up sometime; that they would have to once again face the world and its troubles. But for now, Dean was content to stay in bed with his angel.

The hunter smiled.

 _Who would've thought they could actually kiss it better?_

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 **A/N - Hope you enjoyed this little two-shot! I plan to try writing some more Destiel, so if you have any ideas feel free to send them my way! I've also written stories for Miraculous, Voltron, Glee, and An Unfortunate Fairy Tale, plus another Destiel one-shot where Cas is introduced to pick-up lines.**

 **As always, please leave a review with your thoughts and suggestions, and thank you for reading my story!**

 **~ Elizabeth (FanOfDeliciousFlavour)**


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